Behind the Spacro: the Meaning of War
by Dilasc
Summary: The life of war is more dangerous than you'd think. This is the story and adventures of Noldin Spacro, and the harsh military reality! I came to love the blood I'd spill. I craved it and would have guzzled it down had I no sanity! I was an abomination!
1. A Basic War Conception

Behind the Spacro  
  
Introduction: When life was not so easy... about 15 years ago at very least. There was a time of war. Many nations were plunged into fights for their lives, let alone their home country. Man, machine, and monster of all variety were unleashed upon rivaling nations by the thousands. Many would not survive. It, was a time of crisis, but thankfully, war always does subside, when long after the battle began, the reasons for fighting have long been forgotten, and life goes on, for those who live.  
  
Those who die never need to feel the sadness of the loss of close friends, companions or their pokemon. Many soldiers have stories to tell. Interesting tales of their adventure on warring grounds. Those who withstand the minefields of camouflaged Electrodes and Geodude, blending in with the habitat around them, often will have an exciting, sad, or miracle story about their trials and tribulations.  
  
This one just so happens to belong to Noldin T. Spacro, a man from the country of Kanto. We will hear many tales, like his battles in Jerbil'ni, how he met his to be best friend, and Lieutenant, Arnold Surge. Only to name a few.  
  
From what is known, there is no doubt to be peril beyond belief, but one thing's for sure, if Better and Tougher fits its bill, than this is Mission Impossible, with a new twist. Let the most likely unnecessary bloodshed begin!  
  
A/N: Well, a new story is on the horizon. This is not a pokemon journey. If you want to read that, read B&T (Better and Tougher), (I suggest you read it anyway so you understand a bit more behind what's to come here. Don't forget to review for it, and this as well, hah!) Also, unlike B&T, this story WILL have a definite end. After all... well, you'll understand in time you will.  
  
Anyways, read, review, and watch the making of history behind the story of Better and Tougher. 


	2. Destined for Death A more important intr...

Behind the Spacro  
  
Chapter 1: Destined for Death  
  
War, so they say, is often an assured path to prove that one truly is grown from a boy to a man. He who goes to the front lines of combat to wage war qualifies, and if he returns alive, he is no longer a weak boy. He is a powerful man, glorified with honor and pride, perhaps knowing he did his country well, or proving that he has the testicular fortitude that outranks others; maybe it's the courage that it has brought him to overcome himself. The reasons are many, and their stories are often more fabricated than the government and military generals who maintain this very industry. Industry, for it is a supply and demand game where man and machine are made, refined, refurbished, brainwashed then sent to the market to fight his foe. Industry because this runs hand-in-hand with the business world, as economy goes up, and cash flows like rivers of gold, and dollar signs become stuck in your eyes like a blinding force. After all of that, who could say no?  
  
They say that war breeds heroes, heroes who may have been criminals, everyday simpletons, or even the biggest degenerates of society. Their heroic status is not always held for the same reasons, but their attainment method is always the same: slaughter. You could have the greatest of muscle to fight a Machamp, a Tyranitar both at the same time, with your bare hands, using sissy slaps, but an anorexic in a straight jacket (well, maybe not, since they'll need their hands), could slaughter him in war, all because of technologies weapon of pure victory decision: the gun.  
  
Crime syndicates become the heroes of their country, doing what they do best. They kill, they steal, they rape, they torture, pillage, terrorize, and more. Truly this is NOT heroic behavior, and is punishable by law, but there is little more to their reason of innocence in the eye of the law than that it is wartime, and as long as it is the enemy that they unleash their wrath upon, they may live undisturbed and in luxury.  
  
It is as though one does not even need to work for their greatness, for it is easier to destroy than it is to build something great. Keremus City was not built in a day, but it fell in less than half of one when the explosives were employed. Not a soldier was even needed! We were there to make it look like a most gruesome victory, and all we had to do was lounge around and wait until the smoke cleared. Only a few of the city's residents survived the encounter. It wouldn't even be the last such attempt at looking good in the public eye.  
  
Regardless, I am probably getting ahead of myself now aren't I. Shall I start over? I can? Great!  
  
My name is Noldin Thames Spacro, and I have been a pawn in one of the biggest wars to ever hit this time period, as I fought for the country of Kanto. I perhaps will never swear fealty to any country again. To tell you about who and what I'm like would be telling of the lie of the past me I had to live as. In truth, I wish I could forget it all, the haunting memories, as I still remember the stench of the dead at the Parnussian Gulf, still to this day. Men, pokemon, all were throwing their lives away for perhaps the name of a country that won't matter where they're going. What does one's own glory matter when they're dead? Even those who wished not to die were subjected to a merciless, brutal death. Many tempted to flee and beg for their lives, for is it that sacred be life above all else, conquering all but love? Actually, no! Truth be known, love goes hand in hand with war, transforming from romantic stories to tales of carnal lust and need. So basic and feral are we in the battlefield, there is little to do but slaughter. I wish my son never has to know about any of this. He does not deserve the despair and agony of killing. Nobody does.  
  
I wasn't always as smart as I am now. I too had been a victim of many of these feelings that war breeds in all species. I still am, for though I know it is wrong to promote the slaughter, the return to a humble life doesn't compare to the jolts of thrill, adventure, and even, frighteningly, power! Even when war ends and its time for peace, it never endures. One land is always going to get a raw deal, and as stories and history shifts with each telling to favor ones land, defeat is eradicated from history books of that country, and the public brainwash begins. It would be that I would have a long service to the wars to come. There'd be wounds to fix, and some unfixable, and memories more painful than that felt when I realize I've been unconscious in an infirmary bed.  
  
Pokemon too were as vicious, if not more so than the humans they battled alongside or against. Some brought up for battle from the day they are born. I remember seeing a military trained Machamp once. It was armed with powerful gunnery in each of its 4 muscular, rock solid hands, and its legs adorned in camouflage army pants. As funny as it sounded, this creature seemed to have virtually no conscious. It'd kill without a hesitation. If commanded to slaughter, it would. Its instinctive creature nature was nonexistent, and its face was always drawn into the most horrifically vicious snarl I ever saw on a pokemon. I don't even recall times when it didn't even have one gun on hand. With double the grasp due to double the arms, it was able to eat and fight at the same time. If disturbed while immersed with savoring the food on its platter, it would focus a gun in its target's direction as a threat. It never even needed to know which direction its disturbance came from.  
  
Again, my foolishness is inexcusable, and I know that I can never atone for the many atrocities committed by my country, let alone my own shameful behavior. All I can do, as I shudder at the non physical pain as I recall events gone by. I hope that my tale can, and will impact your lives. Pray not to whatever deity you believe in, (for the manipulation of the honor of the great one in the sky plays a most vital role in the ideals of the many). Still, I wish well for any wise, and brave enough to hear my tale, that you do not have to partake in a draft for war. For like many a drug, it is addictive! My one true wish is for a world where the pain of slaughter does not exist.  
  
I only hope this is not a hopeless cause...  
  
A/N: Well, anyone here in the mood to go hunting? No? It is a shame, its politician season. They're ripe for the killing.  
  
Anyway, now that we have the intro of Noldin, there are a few things to do. First off, review the story! I don't think I'll be able to stretch the importance of this to both you and me, (but mostly me), as it keeps us both going. After all, it's supply and demand. The more you demand, the more I damn well will supply. Secondly, it's a good idea to read my other story 'Better and Tougher, the Real Adventures', also by me, and when there, repeat step one, (for that story of course). Third of all, you may want to hold onto your esophagus or short intestine tightly if you think that it's sending your digested food particles in the wrong direction as you read. Remember, keep writing, keep reading, keep reviewing!  
  
Peace out for now. 


	3. Every New Beginning

**Behind the Spacro, The Story of War**

**Chapter 2: Every New Beginning **

Well, I guess I could tell you what it is you wish to know about me. Where else but to start than from the beginning, hmm? I could tell you about how I was born in Remwood Village, which is somewhere near the forests by Fuchsia City. Maybe you want to hear how I flunked college after receiving a decent scholarship. Maybe you'd care to know about my first encounter with the idea of pokemon training, and how it appalled me greatly. I could even tell you about the first time I shot a person, but I'd be skipping past a bit if I did that.

Perhaps I start with my first day of military service. It was very frightening, with many strong looking people of all kinds, standing there with the likes of a pokemon or two. Many of these trainers or their pokemon would face a broken bond on the battlefield and still to this day it saddens me, but fills me with some joy to know that I never had a pokemon, verily making such a close love and heartbreaking loss impossible. Even the strongest men can have soft spots, which doesn't include the mightiest of kicks square in the balls, which hurts big time.

It all started back at the military academy. Don't ask! I don't enjoy talking about how I flunked out of college. I now realize the importance of a good education. I was standing in a long line facing an imposing military instructor. I'm sure you all have heard the "Alright magbites! (which you may not know, but they are a species of fiery maggots) Listen up you sorry sacks of crap! Etc. etc…" Well this is very true.

Our sergeant was no exception to the rules. He was a seemingly muscular man with eyes a shade of light green, but there was an odd dulling and darkness both within. The pupils almost seemed to flash in a hauntingly murderous blood red, though they didn't, truth be known. It was almost death defying to try to make eye contact with that man, for surely he'd punish you for every split second glanced. He was to quickly be hated, and rightfully so. His name, as he would tell us was Sergeant Doesh… but whenever the miserable bastard wasn't around, most of us would prefer the name Douche.

After what seemed like forever of useless shouts, many a harsh belittling of mine and other soldiers existence, oh and don't forget the big opener… 'Your mamas aint around to help ya.' Believe me, that was probably the least harsh of them all. My mom was an oddball, and I think it's 'that time' for her, when women transform into vicious Houndoom with its teeth clenched tight enough to break an iron fence and its mouth foaming like the strongest ocean smash ever seen . Hmm, women be damned. Ah hells, I like 'em anyway and still do.

Though indeed, we are in the army of men, pokemon militia has not been outlawed, and are seen quite often within armed forces. In fact, Doesh let that be known as well. It's weird that I was ever afraid of that man.

"Alright magbites!" scorned the serge with a sense of enjoyment. "As a member of the armed forces you will be under strict training with every useless resource you sorry pawns may have." his face did not smirk, for that'd be too much of a giveaway to his role. His faux guise of 'strict but for our benefit' would have be ruined even more than it already is. His teeth gnashed as he spoke. "And I know some of you wimps use pokemon, who in turn take after their trainer being pathetic little wimps as well." **GOD** I hate… no! I _LOAHTE _that jerk of a man with every fiber that pulsates through my body. "Now Magbites, send out your pokemon!" he roared with terrifying rage.

Without even a second thought, people obeyed in fear of the fact their lungs would be missing! All sorts of pokemon were unleashed. All kinds of pokemon were unleashed from red and white spheres called pokeballs. Some had only one, others had a full team of six. I on the other hand… "You there!" came the Douchebag sergeant's voice. "Are you daring to defy my orders?" he snarled, his hand upon the collar of my military uniform. The grasp was firm, strong, and furiously angry.

I froze, speaking in a quivering tone of fear. "I… I don't have an…" he cut me off as he tossed me to the ground. "I dun like you, and by damn I don't give a crap if you hate me." That was a relief to know… though to be honest it made no sense in this one sided conversation. At the time though it scared me big time.

The rest of his introducing us to military training was basically more belittling, and an assessment of the pokemon people had. His faux commanding aura did not fade as he had a snide and shameful thing to say about each and every pokemon. He decided to poke extra fun at a man who had of all things a Wigglytuff. The pink bunny creature that's cute enough to want to kill it. Well, it was short lived as the beast proved braver than man and slammed at him with a full force body slam. Ha! He deserved it, and I'm grateful that he didn't retaliate. Maybe he had a soft spot for the creature, or maybe he saw potential. Regardless, I didn't care. I just wanted to make sure I had six more than 200 bones still in my body when this introductory meet was over.

"Pathetic, worthless dirt bags that you all are!" sneered the douche of a military leader after he finished his dastardly assessment of the pokemon militia that'd be training. "This sorry excuse of a hopeful future for our country is adjourned." he made a slight grunt, and finished his soliloquy of horror. "Now… GET OUTTA MY SIGHT!" he shouted as everyone scattered to whatever safe haven they could find. I don't know about anyone else, but I just wanted to be away from the man who seemed to think that efficiency came at the cost of humanity.


End file.
